


Grass Clippings and Tangled Locks

by Twigwise



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Disabled!Cecil, Drabble, Fluff, Hair Brushing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POCecil, Positive Cecilos Fic Drive, but in a more "i'm achy please make me feel better" way, diasbled!Carlos, directly following "lazy day"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twigwise/pseuds/Twigwise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As soon as the town stopped being affected by the aura of apathy surrounding it, so did Carlos's pain. All he wanted to do was lay down and relax.</p><p>Thankfully, Cecil knows just how to treat his scientist to that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grass Clippings and Tangled Locks

The front door creaked open, and closed again gently, rousing Carlos before he even knew he'd been asleep. The soft step-tap of loafers and a cane echoed through the front hall, and he rolled over with a tired smile. It was Cecil. He had been expecting that, but it was still a pleasant surprise. 

"Carlos? Are you feeling alright?"

Carlos shifted to sit up, winced, and fell back on the pillows with a soft puff, a few feathers flying errant out of an open seam. "Uh, not particularly, Cecil," he called back, grimacing at the croak at the edge of his voice. "I'm quite sore. I really should have known that I shouldn't have overtaxed myself, but it was so thrilling to not hurt for a little while, and I knew you had been meaning to do those chores...."

By the end of his sentence, Cecil was in the bedroom, shoes off, cane hooked safely over the door-handle, and lime green shawl floating gently on the slight breeze from the air conditioner, a concerned frown on his face.

"Dear, considerate Carlos, you didn't get injured, did you..?"

"No, no, I just- I'm flaring up, a little. I didn't have my cane or wheelchair outside, so it- I admit, I had some trouble getting back inside, that's all. Really, nothing to worry about. I promise. I just need a nap, I think."

Cecil clucked disapprovingly and settled next to Carlos, taking care not to jostle the aching man, and very carefully took his glasses off. At an affronted squeak from Carlos- really, he should just get contacts, not bother with sleeping in his clunky frames, but for some reason he blanched and changed the subject any time Cecil suggested visiting the local optometrist- he merely chuckled and gently pulled Carlos's head into his lap.

"Cecil, what-"

"You, my overzealous groundskeeper, have grass clippings in your hair," Cecil cut Carlos off, plucking a blade of grass, still whistling weakly, from behind his ear. "It wouldn't hurt to take care of that, would it?"

Carlos closed his eyes and attempted to fight back a smile, losing spectacularly. He would never complain about Cecil playing with his hair; it was so calming and relaxing, he always felt better when the dark radio host did so. "I'd like that, I really would."

With a cheery hum- the first bars of yesterday's weather- Cecil removed his hairpiece from his afro. It was a decorated pick meant for an accessory, but it would do in lieu of an actual comb. He stroked Carlos's cheek gently with a forefinger before turning his attention to Carlos's salt-and-pepper curls. Though he was careful to not yank on any knots, he soon fell into a steady rhythm of brushing, removing grass and twigs, and then running his fingers through Carlos's lush hair, letting out a content sigh every time before starting the cycle again. It wasn't long before this made Carlos bonelessly relaxed and drowsy, which was always an interesting state for him to be in, in Cecil's opinion. Very Science-y. 

"Cecil?"

"Hm."

"Th'gravity was off when I was doin' the gutters, you know."

"I think it was off all over town? Probably? It made a dreadful mess of my coffee, I know that."

"It made me think. If I can- 'f I can get some good results from m'equipment on that, I could- I could make an antigravity-whasis. Um. Like my. My-" he gestured vaguely, not bothering to move more than his wrist, let alone lift his head up from where he was drooling slightly while mumbling into Cecil's thigh. "M'wheelchair. It'd be a lot more, um, convenient than pushin' me around..."

"I like pushing your chair, Carlos. It warms my annually-checked heart to know I can do a service to you and to Science by helping you, you know that."

"I don' like the pushin' bit when I'm doin' it. 's hard on my arms. I bet I could. If Josie's angels-"

"Who do not exist but make wonderful barley bread," Cecil cut in, nodding in the direction of the window the Sheriff's Secret Police Officer was monitoring them from. No need for Carlos's sleepiness to result in a trip to reeducation. 

"Can float, i's... pro'ly antigrav'ty. Could ask them. Might be.... magne's........"

Carlos trailed off in the middle of his sentence, following it up a moment later with a loud snore. Cecil sighed and stuck his pick back in his hair before reclining back against the headboard, grateful not for the first time that he'd made the decision to grow his hair enough to use as an impromptu pillow. Though he'd meant it more for when he fell asleep on his desk at the Station, it worked just as well for lazy nights when Carlos and he couldn't bother to move from positions like this- Carlos's head in Cecil's lap, Cecil's hands wound idly through Carlos's hair, and the both of them breathing in sync as the desert sun faded the lighting in their room to a light pink, their hearts beating as one.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't listened to any episodes since "Missing," and it's been a while since I wrote either Carlos or Cecil, so I'm a little rusty. But I'm always up for the challenge of writing cute fluff!


End file.
